


Love and Comfort in Gibraltar

by ChillieBean



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Comfort, Established Relationship, M/M, Oral Sex, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, trans!McCree
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-07-18
Packaged: 2020-05-31 00:55:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19415113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChillieBean/pseuds/ChillieBean
Summary: Hanzo pulls his hand away from that scar and moves his hand back up to rest his hand in the middle of his chest, skipping the same two scars like he always does. Jesse doesn’t mind honestly, Hanzo knows his story, he knows why they’re there. It’s not like they’re not that easy to see these days with the hair that’s covering his chest now, but Hanzo’s always been careful to avoid touching them.Jesse thinks about telling their story, weighing up the option of giving Hanzo the distraction or just comforting him in silence. Hanzo knows the story of every other scar on his body, what they make Jesse feel when he looks at them.He thinks again about the trust Hanzo has in him, and decides it’s time.“I ever tell you about the other two scars?”





	Love and Comfort in Gibraltar

**Author's Note:**

> For DogBlessYouTascha.

Jesse is anxious. 

The mission Hanzo was on had gone poorly. It was supposed to be simple reconnaissance, deep within suspected Talon controlled territory in Vienna. Took months of planning, forging identities for Hanzo, Lena and Hana, and somehow their cover was blown. But as much as it was a failure, it  _ could  _ have gone worse. The team escaped unharmed, thankfully, even if it was by the skin of their teeth. 

Given it was an emergency evac, to cap it all off, it’s just past two a.m., so Hanzo will be tired, sore, and probably grumpy to boot. 

Not that Jesse minds; he’s got a few good things planned to lift Hanzo’s mood. He went into town earlier today to get Hanzo’s favourite bottle of sake. Picked up some nice cigars too—not that he expects Hanzo to want to smoke at this hour—but it’s something they can indulge in tomorrow. 

The best thing, though, is the new bottle of massage oil. Jesse really splurged with this one, Frankincense oil to help any inflammation in Hanzo’s legs. He knows Hanzo and there’s no way he would have taken off his prosthetics for longer than an hour, so he’ll be feeling the effects of two straight weeks in them.

It’s something that happens on missions. Jesse is intimately familiar with that. 

All he needs to do now is wait for Hanzo’s medical check and debrief, and he can slather Hanzo with kisses and cuddles and massage oil. 

It’s another ten uneasy, restless minutes before the door opens. Hanzo steps through, he’s practically dragging his feet, his hair is messy, and looks worse for wear. 

“Sweetheart,” Jesse breathes, rushing forward to take Hanzo’s bag off his shoulders. He places it on the floor as Hanzo sighs, closing the door behind him. Jesse extends his arms wide and Hanzo looks at him, utterly fatigued, and all but falls on him, wrapping his arms around him tight. “Welcome home,” Jesse murmurs, enveloping Hanzo in the most comforting hug he can give, kissing the top of Hanzo’s head. Jesse’s anxiety melts away; Hanzo is here, he is safe. 

“Thank you,” Hanzo mumbles. He looks up at Jesse, resting his chin on his chest. “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Jesse whispers, cupping Hanzo’s face and leaning down to kiss him softly. He pulls away, sweeping his bangs behind his ear. “I’ve got some stuff here that might make you feel better.”

Hanzo smiles wearily. “Oh?”

Jesse nods, turning while keeping Hanzo close, tucked under his arm. “Got your favourite sake and a new massage oil. Can give you a massage if you’d like.”

“I would love one,” Hanzo breathes, looking up at Jesse. “But I would like to shower first though. I am filthy.”

“‘Course,” Jesse says, escorting Hanzo to the bathroom. “Need a hand?”

“I will manage,” Hanzo replies, taking Jesse’s hand and kissing his knuckles. “I will only be a few minutes.”

Jesse nods, smiling as Hanzo closes the door. He waits until he hears the shower running before sighing, long and loud, scratching his head. 

Hanzo’s not in a good place right now. 

Usually, Hanzo’s all over him coming off the back of a mission—kisses and cuddles, and often getting so heated it leads to sex. Hell, Jesse’s been dragged into the shower with him on many, many occasions after a mission. 

But when he’s distant, like now, that’s a sign that things aren’t good. He probably blames himself for what happened on the mission. Jesse was there in the control room when the shit went down, it wasn’t anyone’s fault that they were ambushed. There was literally  _ no _ warning, no intel to say otherwise. Hanzo had the lead on the mission though, and he’ll take full blame for its failure.

Jesse also knows that Hanzo won’t want to talk about it, that even suggesting that he can open up and get it all off his chest will push him further away. That’s the last thing Jesse wants, especially at two in the morning. Hanzo will talk about it  _ if _ and  _ when _ he wants to, and in the meantime, Jesse will make sure he’s okay and try to help him relax.

True to his word, Hanzo finishes up quickly. Jesse opens the bottle of sake, pours some into Hanzo’s cup, and by the time he’s pulled back the covers of the bed and stripped down to his underwear, Hanzo steps out of the bathroom. He looks better than he did, albeit more tired than before.

“Come and lie down,” Jesse says, extending his arm to the bed. 

Hanzo smiles weakly, stepping into the room with his towel in his hand. He sits on the bed with a tired groan, rubbing just above his right knee and wincing. 

“Here, let me,” Jesse says softly, kneeling on the floor. He looks up at Hanzo for confirmation, and when he gets a smile and a subtle nod in return, Jesse moves to detach Hanzo’s prosthetics, placing them in their usual spot beside the nightstand. This is the first time Hanzo’s let him do it while not injured, and the gravity of the trust Hanzo has in him settles heavy on his shoulders. 

It reminds him that there is something, a part of him that he should open up about to Hanzo, because he has the same trust in Hanzo, too. 

Pushing that thought aside, something he can talk about on another day, Jesse pours some massage oil on his hands, rubbing them together to get a good look at Hanzo’s stumps. The skin above the connectors is red and inflamed, a sign that he was wearing them for too long. 

Jesse’s heart aches—Hanzo must be in so much pain. 

“Indulge,” Jesse says, smiling softly as he glances at the cup on the nightstand. Hanzo picks it up, takes a cautious sip, and a warm smile spreads on his lips.

“You didn’t have to,” Hanzo murmurs.

“‘Course I did,” Jesse replies, gently rubbing at Hanzo’s left leg. “Anything for you.”

Hanzo hums in relief, Jesse is sure, when he applies more pressure to his leg with his thumbs. “I missed your hands,” Hanzo murmurs, eyes sliding closed. 

“Just my hands, huh?” Jesse says, teasing, as he makes his way up Hanzo’s thigh. “Nothin’ else?”

“I missed your warmth. Your broad shoulders, your chest, your cock—” Hanzo moans, overtly sexual, and it’s a noise Jesse didn’t realise he had missed, not until this very moment, feeling the first hints of his arousal. He shouldn’t act on it, Hanzo’s too tired for sex tonight. Maybe tomorrow morning; slow and lazy  _ welcome home _ sex. “I missed you so much,” Hanzo whispers.

“Missed you too, sweetness.” Content that Hanzo’s left leg is thoroughly relaxed, Jesse goes to move onto his right, catching a glimpse of Hanzo’s semi, resting heavy against his thigh. He smirks; maybe Hanzo will be in the mood after all. He doesn’t say anything about it, though, doesn’t make a move, not until Hanzo’s all nice and massaged and relaxed. “How’s that feel?” Jesse asks, working on Hanzo’s right leg.

“Magnificent,” Hanzo murmurs. He looks at Jesse with renewed vigour, hungry eyes that tell Jesse more than his words ever will.

“That’s good,” Jesse breathes, working his way up Hanzo’s thigh. He looks at Hanzo’s cock, now fully erect, and his mouth waters. “Nice and relaxed?”

Hanzo looks down at him, the tiredness from earlier is completely gone.  _ This _ is a little more like the Hanzo he’s used to. “Absolutely.”

“Seems you’re ah…” Jesse slyly glances down at Hanzo’s cock, and it twitches in response. Jesse licks his lips as he looks back at Hanzo. “You’re still a little stiff in  _ another _ place.” 

“I missed you.”

“You’ve said,” Jesse replies, rubbing his hands on Hanzo’s towel to remove the excess oil. He places his hands on Hanzo’s inner thighs and pushes them further apart. Hanzo exhales forcefully, biting his lip. “Let me take care of you?”

Hanzo nods subtly, and Jesse takes Hanzo’s cock in his hand, licking from base to tip and over his slit. He takes Hanzo in his mouth, and when he bobs up and down, Hanzo places his hand on top of Jesse’s head. He’s not encouraging or pushing, not this time at least, it’s just  _ there _ , probably for comfort and closeness more than anything. 

When Jesse hears that first moan from Hanzo, tastes the saltiness of pre on his tongue, Jesse picks up his pace. Hanzo tangles his fingers in his hair, a sign that he is close, and Jesse takes him deeper, holds him a little tighter. 

“Jesse,” Hanzo moans, grabbing Jesse’s hair in a handful. Jesse knows he’s close, and he lets go of Hanzo then, moving his hand down to cup his balls. Hanzo curls in on himself, his thighs bracket Jesse’s body and he moans, long and low, hand gripping his shoulder tight. 

Jesse closes his eyes when his mouth fills with come, and he swallows it down. He pulls up, licking Hanzo’s slit as come pools there, watching Hanzo bask in his afterglow; relaxed, content. When Hanzo opens his eyes, he leans down, cups Jesse’s face and kisses him softly. 

“Let me take care of you now,” Hanzo whispers, lips fluttering against Jesse’s. He pulls away, eyes heavily lidded, and he looks like he is about to fall asleep where he sits. 

Jesse huffs a little laugh, turns his head to kiss Hanzo’s palm. “Naw, it’s fine sweetness. I can see you’re tired.”

Hanzo nods, as if saying it aloud made it true in Hanzo’s mind, and he smiles softly. “In the morning,” he says, scooting back on the bed and lying down. 

“In the morning.” Jesse stands, takes off his underwear and tosses them into the hamper in the corner. He detaches his prosthetic, rests it on the nightstand before climbing next to Hanzo. The moment he’s pulled the blankets up, Hanzo is attached to him like an octopus, head resting on his chest and hand sitting just above his left pec, over his heart. Jesse adjusts his right arm, sliding it under Hanzo and cupping Hanzo’s shoulder, holding him close. 

After a moment, Hanzo moves his hand, running his fingers gently across that one scar that sits close to his collarbone, the result of someone bringing a knife to a gunfight. It was also the first time Hanzo had witnessed Jesse hurt on the field, and what ultimately kickstarted this all—sleeping together, love confessions, sharing a room. If it wasn’t for that, they’d probably still be awkwardly flirting and drowning in unresolved sexual tension. 

“How was your day?” Hanzo asks.

“Can’t complain,” Jesse breathes. He pauses when Hanzo moves his hand down to the round scar above his left pec—a gunshot wound he was lucky to have survived. “Spent the day in the control room with Winston overseeing you lot on the mission. Shed my anxiety when you and everyone was on the shuttle home by going into town for the supplies. I went to the gym after that, then waited for you.”

“I apologise for causing you unnecessary worry,” Hanzo says, barely a whisper. He sighs heavily, and Jesse realises that was probably the stupidest thing to say at this moment and he kicks himself for it.

“I always worry when you’re out of my arms,” he says, trying to salvage the situation. “Got nothing to apologise for.”

“So you worry when I go to the bathroom?” Hanzo asks, and Jesse can hear the smile on his voice. It was probably a dig at him but Jesse will take it over Hanzo being closed off.

“The bathroom is dangerous, I’ll have you know. You could slip, hit your head on the sink, fall down the toilet.” 

“And when I get us tea to share in here?”

“Could get lost down one of the secret hallways, accosted by Lúcio or Hana, or both, never to be seen or heard of again.”

Hanzo hums but otherwise remains silent, tracing his finger between his pecs and mapping all of the scars on his abdomen. Jesse doesn’t say anything either, giving Hanzo space. No doubt Hanzo is recalling each of their stories, it’s something that brings comfort to him, proof that Jesse is a survivor.

Proof that Hanzo, despite his momentary playfulness, isn’t in a great headspace right now. 

Jesse gives him all the time in the world to process whatever he’s working on, rubbing his thumb comfortingly against his shoulder. Hanzo stops on one scar, on Jesse’s left side, obtained back when he was in Deadlock. That was his first near-death experience, the incident that made Jesse realise that he wasn’t an invincible kid, that he couldn’t just charge at someone and come out unscathed. 

“I thought I would never see you again,” Hanzo says, so quiet Jesse almost misses it. There is so much sorrow behind his words, and Jesse feels the icy stab in his gut. He wants to reassure Hanzo, that everything is all right, but the words won’t leave his mouth, so he turns his head, kissing Hanzo’s forehead and holding him tighter, hoping it is enough. “They had us pinned, I had a laser on me. The sniper was there, she should have taken the shot but she hesitated, I don’t know why. I risked running, she fired the shot and missed.”

Jesse didn’t know that detail. There was a moment where he and Winston were focused on charting a path for the team to get to the evac point safely. He feels a twinge of anger for being distracted from Hanzo, but lets it pass; Hanzo got out of there alive. “You’re here now, that’s all that matters.” He presses another kiss to Hanzo’s forehead. “Stuck with me for another day.”

Hanzo hums, pulling his hand away from that scar and moves his hand back up to rest his hand in the middle of his chest, skipping the same two scars like he always does. Jesse doesn’t mind honestly, Hanzo knows his story, he knows why they’re there. It’s not like they’re not that easy to see these days with the hair that’s covering his chest now, but Hanzo’s always been careful to avoid touching them. 

Jesse thinks about telling their story, weighing up the option of giving Hanzo the distraction or just comforting him in silence. Hanzo knows the story of every other scar on his body, what they make Jesse feel when he looks at them.

He thinks again about the trust Hanzo has in him, and decides it’s time.

“I ever tell you about the other two scars?”

Hanzo looks up at him, a subtle frown teases his features. “You have not, but you don’t need to,” he says quietly. “Only if  _ you _ want to.”

“I do,” Jesse breathes. “You trust me enough to take off your prosthetics, I trust you enough with them.”

Hanzo smiles and nods. Jesse places his hand on top of Hanzo’s, takes a deep breath and holds it as he moves it slowly over his left pec, to the long scar sitting just below. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, feels giddy and apprehensive, but it feels  _ right _ . 

“I knew for a long while who I was,” Jesse says, exhaling slowly. “Who I  _ truly _ was even though my body didn’t reflect it. I was on testosterone well before the surgery, but it took me a good few years to do something about my chest. It wasn’t until Blackwatch when I had a stable life situation, the opportunity to recover without doing any damage before I had the operation though.”

Jesse moves Hanzo’s hand across his chest to the other scar below his right pec. “I didn’t realise just how empowering it was having them removed. I felt like me. It was right. Perfect.” He takes his hand off Hanzo’s, and Hanzo doesn’t move away. “I haven’t really let anyone touch them,” he says quietly. “Not in this way at the very least.”

“I was unsure if you wanted the reminder that they were there…”

“I might not have felt comfortable in my own skin before the surgery, but they’re a part of who I am. They’re what make me  _ me _ . And that’s not something I want to hide.” Jesse huffs a laugh. “Even though the chest hair does that job.”

Hanzo moves his hand back to the first one, traces his finger along the scar, and it feels right. Letting Hanzo in on this part of his life, giving his trust to Hanzo in this way like Hanzo trusts him with his prosthetics is empowering, more than Jesse ever thought it would be.

“It wasn’t my intention to not tell you about them. I’m not ashamed of them, in any way, shape or form. Just…” Jesse inhales and exhales slowly. “Letting partners in can be tough and scary and I trust you, Hanzo, with all my heart.”

Hanzo looks up at him. “I trust you too,” he whispers. He lifts his head, meeting Jesse in a chaste kiss. He settles back down, and his hand goes straight back to his pec. “I love you.”

Jesse holds onto Hanzo tight. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/BeanChillie) Come say hi!


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